


A Night on the Couch

by sir_kingsley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_kingsley/pseuds/sir_kingsley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas get in an argument and it leads to one of them sleeping on the couch for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night on the Couch

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! So here's just a short little Destiel fic. It's based off a Tumblr post which I will paste below. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Post: http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/89123738611/no-but-think-about-cas-and-dean-getting-in-a-huge

Dean blinked in the oncoming glare of headlights. They gave him a glimpse of his whitening knuckles. He was practically choking the steering wheel. His stomach wouldn’t stop rolling. The air was buzzing with electricity, setting his nerves on end. 

Cas was mad.

The other man was sitting like a statue in the passenger’s seat, his face turned away from Dean. His hands were folded in his lap, perfectly still. Dean would have wondered if the man was even breathing if not for the timed circles of fog appearing and fading on the window. 

He had done something. Dean knew this was his fault. He just didn’t know how. Dean had done some stupid things to piss Cas off before. And Cas would scold him, they’d argue, then Dean would eventually admit he’d been wrong and they’d be humming to a Zeppelin song by now. 

Never had Dean pushed Cas this far, to the point of becoming ice.

Dean gazed over at the silent man. He took a breath and looked back out the windshield. “Cas.”

Cas didn’t respond. The silence became heavier. Dean blew out his breath and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

They stayed like that until Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage. He put the Impala in park and Cas unfroze to open his door. By the time Dean was out of the car Cas was heading into the bunker without a backward glance.

Dean clutched the car keys in his hand. This was going to be a rough night. But Dean was determined to get this out of the way now. He headed for their bedroom. “Cas, we need-”

But Cas wasn’t there.

Dean frowned. “Cas?”

There was no answer.

Dean toured around the bunker. He checked the library, the kitchen, the shooting range. He couldn’t find the angel anywhere. 

Sighing, Dean gave up and returned to the bedroom. If Cas didn’t want to be found there was no way Dean could find him. 

With no other choice, Dean hopped in the shower. He just wanted to wash the hunt off him and go to sleep. Hopefully Cas would be ready to talk in the morning.

Dean ducked his head beneath the water jet. He ran his hands through his hair and reached for the shampoo. 

“How could you-“

The rest of the shout was lost to Dean as he jerked around, his eyes shooting open. “Cas, what the- Shit!” The shampoo ran into his eyes, setting them on fire. He quickly splashed water into them then blinked at the disgruntled angel holding the shower curtain to the side. “What the hell, Cas?”

“How could you be so stupid!” the angel shouted.

“What?” Dean yelled back. “What did I-?”

“You are reckless and careless,” Cas interrupted. “Did you even think of how I would feel? No! Because you never do!”

“Cas what are you talking about?”

Cas vanished and the lights went out.

Dean stood in the darkness for several moments, the water cold on his back. “Shit.”

He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist and ran toward his and Cas’s bedroom.

Cas was in his pajamas. He was peeling back the covers when Dean stormed in. 

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean thundered.

Cas spared him a cold glance. 

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Dean said, catching the angel’s arm before he could dive into the covers. “I’ve had enough of this silent treatment crap. You got something to say, then say it.”

Cas jerked his arm away and Dean fought to hide his hurt. Cas never pulled away from his touch.

The angel gazed at the floor, not saying a word.

“Cas, come on,” Dean begged. “Talk to me.”

“You could have died tonight,” Cas finally whispered.

“What?”

Cas met Dean’s eyes. They were burning with a cold rage that made Dean take a step back. “You could have died,” Cas said a little louder. “You just walked right in there without even thinking. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Cas’s gaze slid back to the floor. Dean blinked a few times, processing the angel’s words. When it finally settled his lips twitched. “So what?”

The cold rage in Cas’s eyes became an inferno. “So what? So what?” he screamed and shoved Dean’s shoulders. “I thought I was going to watch you die and it doesn’t even matter to you! You are so reckless with your own life! You just run into these dangerous situations without thinking-”

“Yeah, Cas, well, that’s kinda part of the job description,” Dean snapped. “Sorry if you skipped that part in the terms of agreement.”

“You don’t even care,” Cas said, his voice quivering. “How… How can you care so little for yourself?”

“I’m a hunter, Cas! I accepted a long time ago that I’d go out with a gun in my hand and a knife in my chest.”

Cas was quiet was a long, pregnant moment. When he met Dean’s eyes again they were cold, but his lips trembled. “Well, Dean, you may be in a hurry to shake Death’s hand, but I’m not ready to watch.” 

“Cas…”

Cas grabbed two pillows from the bed and ripped off the top cover. He shoved them into Dean’s arms and pushed until the hunter was stumbling out of the bedroom. “Cas? What are you doing?”

“You can sleep on the couch,” Cas said and slammed the door in Dean’s face.

Dean stood there, stunned. He waited, as if this were a joke and Cas would open the door with a wide smile and invite him into their bed. But he didn’t. The door stayed firmly in place.

He had really been kicked out.

This is ridiculous, Dean grumbled to himself. All over something so stupid.

“Can I at least have my sweat pants?” Dean hollered.

A moment later the door opened and a pair of sweat pants landed on Dean’s face. “Thanks,” he muffled into the fabric.

Dean wandered into the library and fell onto one of the sofas they had moved into the room. He arranged his pillows and draped the blanket over himself. 

This is ridiculous, he thought again as he stared up at the ceiling. He was a hunter. Hunters risked their lives every day. Death was an unavoidable part of the job description. He had accepted that a long time ago. You kind of had to in order to keep going. He was fine with it. Even if that meant leaving Cas…

Dean frowned. Leaving Cas. Never gazing into those insanely bright blue eyes ever again. Never seeing his nose scrunch up when he was confused or angry. Never feeling the warmth of his hands. Never getting to swipe his hair across his forehead as an excuse to touch him. Because Dean needed to touch Cas. Even if it was as simple as bumping elbows when they walked. 

He would never hear that deep, raspy voice again, hear the way it rattled when Cas laughed. Never feel those perfect pink lips against his again.

Dean swallowed. He felt an uncomfortable irritation in his eye but refused to acknowledge it as a tear. He blinked a few times and turned on his side. And feeling like a complete asshole, Dean closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

*****  
The scent of clean linen clouded Dean’s nose and made him smile. He suddenly saw Cas standing in front of one of the bookcases. He ran one finger along the spines. Dean walked over and wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist, settling his face into the crook of the angel’s neck. 

Cas pressed back into Dean and a warm pressure settle over Dean’s body. Dean began nibbling and kissing along Cas’s neck, up to the man’s ears. Cas hummed and bent his head back to look Dean in the eyes. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied in a husky tone.

Dean closed his eyes and bent to kiss Cas. When he opened them he was staring into blackness.

He jerked. There was a frustrated snort close to his face and Dean stilled as a familiar scent tickled his nose. His eyes took time to adjust. When they were finally settled Dean made out the figure of Cas.

The angel was curled right on top of him, one leg between both of Dean’s, one arm tucked under Dean’s back and the other reaching over the hunter’s head where his fingers were intertwined with Dean’s. Cas’s head rested comfortably on Dean’s chest.

Dean couldn’t help but smile as he settled back into the cushions of the couch. He used his free hand to run his fingers through Cas’s hair. The angel didn’t even stir. 

And like that, flat on his back with a growing ache in his neck, one hand locked over his head and the other sifting through soft hair that smelled of clean linen, Dean Winchester drifted back off to sleep.

*****  
When Dean woke the next morning he was alone. If not for the lingering scent of Cas Dean would have thought everything had been a dream. But it was unmistakably there, in the threads of his shirt where Cas had laid his head. 

There was a loud bang from the kitchen. Dean jumped up and ran toward the sound.

Cas was in there, a large skillet in one hand and a half dozen pots spilled on the floor. Dean pursed his lips. Cas never cooked. In fact, he hated it because he found the concept of eating a messy waste of time.

Which meant he was doing this to create noise and piss Dean off because he was still mad.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean called.

Cas met his greeting with a glare then turned his back to Dean. Yep, Dean thought. Definitely still mad.

Cas went about his banging and glaring and Dean went to find his cell phone. Sam had texted him, letting him know he was on his way home.

Dean sighed. This meant he only had about an hour to make things better with Cas. 

But it didn’t bother Dean too much. Cas had been right. If last night had taught him one thing, it was that Dean wasn’t ready to let go of Cas. He wanted so many more days and nights full of Cas. Just like last night. Except hopefully in their bed and not on a tiny old couch.

A muffled curse came from the kitchen. Grinning to himself, Dean set off to find his angel and put a smile back in those pretty blue eyes.


End file.
